Truth
by jn.v13
Summary: Not meeting his calculating stare, she managed to scoff, "Do you always study people so intently, Malfoy? Or are you staring at me for other reasons?" "I wasn't staring," he said. But she knew better. It was a lie. RW/SM.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter...although you probably already knew that. XD**

**Truth, Chapter One**

"_Make sure you beat him in every test, Rosie."_

It seemed ages ago that Rose Weasley had spotted the pale boy with blonde hair across Platform 9 ¾. So long ago-six years to be exact-her father had warned her about the boy, had told her he was no good.

Usually, Rose would have listened to her mother, would have chalked up her father's behavior under his Malfoy-prejudice…

But he had been right.

She was curious at first, curious about the boy named Scorpius Malfoy. But then she saw it in his arrogant swagger, in his sneering smirk—he was no better than what Ron Weasley had described.

And so Rose steered clear of him. Until he came to her.

"Think you're so smart, Weasley," he'd sneered at her with a most hateful expression, "think you're _brains_ can _ever_ make up for you incurable _ugliness_?" His Slytherin friends laughed coldly.

And Rose had gone straight up to that pompous prat and broke his nose.

"My nose! _Bloody hell! _That insufferable—" he was clutching his face, blood dripping everywhere. Rose imagined he would cry out for his mummy. She bit back maniacal laughter and walked away.

"You'll pay for this, Weasley!" he threatened, but she never heard him.

Third year had been the worst. Rose had just scarfed down a glass of pumpkin juice, turning to talk to her cousin, Albus…

"Hey, Albus, do you know if—?" Rose stopped mid-sentence and gasped as every eye in the Great Hall turned to her. Her voice was as deep as a bullfrog, the gravelly bass echoed throughout the Hall.

Uproarious laughter floated away from the Slytherin table.

"Sound as masculine as you look, Weasley?" Scorpius Malfoy was smirking triumphantly at her from the emerald-clad table.

Later, she knocked him off his broom and caught the Snitch, resulting in the defeat of his House.

He was furious. And he made sure Rose knew this, making every possible second of her life a living hell.

And she always fought back, always retaliated with a fury to match his.

But then he went too far, embarrassed her in front of Benjamin Wood. She cried herself to sleep, the image of Scorpius' smug smirk haunting her even in the darkness.

She came back fifth year and she was untouchable. She had vowed long ago that whatever that low-life Malfoy thought would not affect her. Who cared if he thought she was ugly? She didn't think so, and neither did half the male  
population of Hogwarts.

(The half she wasn't related to, that is.)

Oh, the look on his face was priceless—his mouth agape, his eyes slightly bulging—gawking was so uncharacteristic of him. The miffed look of the girl on his arm.

She gazed at him briefly as they passed in the halls, pausing momentarily as she knew his eyes were moving over her features—waist length auburn curls, ocean-blue eyes, full pink lips, her long legs, her now-curvaceous figure…

She couldn't help but notice him, as well-those platinum blonde locks that were tousled carelessly, those unreadable grey eyes, that perfectly chiseled jaw, perfectly sculpted figure, like granite…

But their expressions quickly assumed looks of indifference, mild disgust, even. They were both good at acting. At lying to themselves.

And now it was their last year, so many years later, and Scorpius and Rose were in their predicted pre-term row.

"I cannot believe _you_ are HEAD BOY! SCORPIUS MALFOY, HEAD BOY! The statement is even _ironic!_" Rose spat his name as if she were deathly allergic.

The aforementioned boy leaned casually against the doorframe of a compartment, inspecting his manicured nails. Heads were already poking out of their compartments, eager to see the yearly show.

"Who were you expecting?" he questioned, meeting Rose's passionate gaze. "Benjamin Wood?" His last comment caused the creeping blush to slowly spread across her face.

"_Anyone_ but _you_!" she recovered, though inside the mention of her long-time crush had hit her like a blow from a fist.

"Why anyone _but_ me?" Rose rolled her eyes at the self-centric rant that was sure to follow.

"I have top grades," (next to Rose of course,) "I'm filthy rich, Slytherin Prefect and Quidditch captain, _and—" _he paused for emphasis, "I'm irresistibly handsome."

Rose knew this speech by heart, mouthing each syllable with over-exaggerated hand gestures. Malfoy stared at her.

"See? You even agree with me, Weasley." The ever-present smirk was now emphasized on his aristocratic features.

"UGH!" Rose stormed off to find her cousins, Albus Potter and Louis Weasley. They were busy chatting up a few fifth years who looked like they were about to wet themselves in the mere presence of the two.

"I don't believe this! _Malfoy _is _Head Boy!" _Rose exploded, causing the girls to huddle closer together. Similar frowns were etched on her cousins' faces.

"Aren't you glad?" wondered Louis.

"Yeah, we all know you have the hots for him," added Lily, who had been sitting in a corner of the compartment, reading her copy of Witch Weekly.

"I do _not_!" she argued, but she just looked at Rose as if she was being _naiive_.

"He's impossibly _gorgeous_." She sighed. "What a shame." She disappeared behind her magazine. Albus winced. Rose left the room, fuming.

"Poor child," said Lily, not looking up. "She hasn't a clue."

Getting no sympathy from her flirtatious relatives, Rose had no choice but to return to the Heads' compartment.

What she saw almost caused the reappearance of her lunch.

Scorpius Malfoy making out with his fellow Slytherin, Petunia Parkinson.

"Get a room!" she yelled as she entered the compartment—no doubt to grab her stuff and leave.

Scorpius took his time snogging the girl in his lap before looking up at the furious Head Girl with a bored expression. His arrogance practically made her _seethe._

In his casual drawl, he responded, "Last time I checked _Weasley-_" he sneered at her name, "-this _is_ one." Petunia giggled, moving around in his lap. He was staring straight at Weasley, absently noticing how attractive her blush was…she looked like she was about to hex him. Clearing his throat, he chose the path that would lead to less injury…he still recalled that incident with the broken nose. That girl had a helluva right hook.

"I'll see you _later_, Parkinson." The girl blushed a deep crimson, and Scorpius once again made an absent note: her blush made her look like a swollen tomato or something. Good thing she had other _redeeming _qualities. He winked at the Slytherin, squeezing her backside before she left the compartment.

"You disgust me, Malfoy," spat Weasley, just as the door slid shut.

"I can't see why," said the boy, leaning back in his seat. Rose hated him with a passion.

"Well I _can._" She sat down in a seat as far away from him as possible, taking out a Muggle novel. "You're obnoxious, rude, an arrogant bastard, a bully, a spoilt brat, immature, you cheat at Quidditch, you use your so-called 'friends', you're a shameless flirt-not to mention heartbreaker, a sexist pig, an academic slacker, a prissy mama's boy-" Rose took a breath to continue, but Scorpius held up his hand for her to stop.

"I take offense at 'prissy mama's boy.' It seems like you took this opportunity to name-call, so it's only fair if I list _your_ bad qualities, as well."

Rose crossed her arms. "Like what?" she asked pointedly.

"_There's _one," and Rose flinched when he pointed at her with one perfectly manicured finger. "Your pride. That's a big one. You refuse to find fault in your House, your family, or yourself." Rose opened her mouth to protest, but Malfoy continued. "Also, you're a know-it-all. I'm not saying being smart is bad, but you try _too_ hard. It's like you're trying to prove something-to impress someone. Perhaps, fill in your mother's shoes?" Scorpius turned his icy gaze at Rose. She flinched again at the eye contact, then cursed herself because it was Malfoy.

"And," he said, "you have quite the temper. Anything can set you off under given circumstances. And it's a blind rage. Sometimes your anger won't let you see that it's unnecessary, or that you're in the wrong."

Rose was silent.

_How did he know?_

How did _Malfoy, _the most self-centered prat on the planet manage to _figure her out_. She had to admit, she was shocked, impressed, and terrified at the same time. Those metallic eyes seemed to read her very soul.

Clearly, Malfoy had handled the situation more maturely than her. How many times had she walked in on Albus snogging a girl?

It was just the fact that he was bloody Scorpius Malfoy that irked her. Everything about his looks attracted her—the eyes, the body, his hair, impeccably white-and yet everything in his personality made her loathe him to a greater degree.

Those eyes were studying her again and she didn't like it. For once in her life, she felt vulnerable.

Not meeting his calculating stare, she managed to scoff, "Do you always study people so intently, Malfoy? Or are you staring at me for other reasons?" Her question met silence, and she curiously looked up from her book, at once meeting his gaze.

For the briefest moment, she could swear she saw a flicker of guilt and embarrassment on his face, in his eyes. But then his features regained their cool composure and he looked away, out the window at the rapidly changing landscape.

Rose felt a moment of disbelief wash over her, but then she assured herself that Malfoy did _not _feel guilt, let alone show _embarrassment_. Her reassuring lies, however, dissolved as he protested quietly.

"I wasn't staring."

But she knew better.


	2. Chapter 2

**Truth, Chapter Two**

"Hey, Malfoy." Vincent Goyle was nudging Scorpius in the ribs with his elbow whilst reaching across the table to snatch another chicken leg.

"What is it Goyle?" he snapped, his gaze instantly flickering from the brunette at the Gryffindor table to the boy's pudgy, overfed face.

Vincent lifted a sausage-like finger to point at Petunia Parkinson and Christy Chang waving eagerly at him from the end of the table. Some younger girls were clustered shyly behind them. "Looks like you've got a fan club again."

Internally, Scorpius groaned—but for normalcy's sake, he threw the fan girls his signature smirk and resumed his eating, ignoring the sickening faces they were making, oblivious to the fact that a pair of ocean-blue eyes were watching him…

—

Rose Weasley was studying him. She was staring at the Malfoy boy over at the Slytherin table, trying to figure _him_ out. She had been quite disturbed at his assessment earlier in the day—was she really that easy to read? Some of the things he said hadn't even occurred truthful to her until she had played their conversation over and over again as the countryside vanished silently before their averted eyes.

"_Your pride. That's a big one. You refuse to find fault in your House, your family, or yourself." _

That was true, even though Rose hated to admit it. Especially to anyone but herself.

"_It's like you're trying to prove something—to impress someone. Perhaps, fill in your mother's shoes?" _

This, of all of his evaluations, was the one that stung her most. Was it childish of her to want to live up her mother's legacy? Was being a normal witch all that bad? For her, Rose supposed, this would be put under her adolescent cry for attention—and it most likely was. She wanted her family to be proud of her, and she was sure just _average_ wasn't enough.

And her anger. Rose never bothered to think rationally in her fury…

Shaking her head, she silently reprimanded herself, sure that these thoughts couldn't be a good sign, and even more so since Malfoy had been the one to bring them to her mind…

She noted that he ate quite a lot, but then told herself that he was a Quidditch-playing _boy_, and that was expected. She noticed that he sat by Vincent Goyle and Marcus Zabini, though didn't seem particularly close to either—he hadn't attempted conversation _once_ since dinner began, and they likewise, until Goyle pointed out those two _airheads_, the leaders of his own personal fan club. _Ridiculous_, she thought, and looked for Malfoy's reaction.

Rose was sure Malfoy would _love_ this attention, considering his egotistical demeanor, but what the girl saw was disgust on his features, and perhaps even a twinge of disappointment?

She snorted. Rose never imagined Scorpius had ever been disappointed at _anything_. The rogue emotions, however, quickly disappeared behind that unreadable mask of his…

And then he was staring at her again, though it felt like he was staring _into _her, and it felt like she was burning under his gaze. Blue met grey, and Rose couldn't find the sense to look away until Albus pulled her out of her thoughts.

The connection broke instantly.

"You okay, Rosie?" her cousin and long-time best friend asked, worriedly. He followed her gaze towards the Slytherin table, but Malfoy was already gone.

Her other relatives, including her brother, Hugo, looked at her questioningly.

"Oh, it's nothing," she assured them, clearing her plate and excusing herself from the table, muttering something about clearing her head and the library…

"Hey, is it just me, or is that where Malfoy usually sits?" asked an observant Louis. Rose had already made a mad dash to wherever she was going. Albus looked at his cousin skeptically. Why would _Rose_ be staring at Scorpius _Malfoy_?

But Lily just gave her male relatives a smug grin, saying, "See what I mean?" in that I-told-you-so voice that her cousins found her using far too much. Then she turned to Dominique and Roxanne, all three chatting animatedly about their cousin's new

"Obsession."

The tips of Hugo's ears were turning a furious shade of red. "I swear, if he did anything to my sister-" he threatened, but Albus patted him on the shoulder, calming him down.

"Relax, coz. It's just Malfoy. Not even worth your time," he said.

Hugo nodded his head silently, but only because whatever he would do to that Malfoy brat if he hurt Rose was too terrible to say…

—

Whenever Scorpius wanted some peace, he went to the library.

It sounded odd, Malfoy being in the library, but he had to admit it was one of his more favorite places in Hogwarts. The Great Hall was too noisy, and the common room was always filled with silly girls—the library was a place of solitude—appreciated by himself and a few silently studying Ravenclaws, a prowling Madam Pince…and sometimes, even _her_. That is, if she wasn't furiously trying to sit _as far away as possible_ from him.

He internally smacked himself for thinking of that Weasley girl—_again_. So what if images of her kept fluttering behind his lids? So what if that beautiful blue was his new favorite color? (Though if anyone asked, it was sure to be Slytherin green.) So what if he had spent the last half hour thinking up ways he could get her to blush again?

That didn't have to _mean_ anything.

_God, _he told himself,_ you sound like a lovesick fool._

Which he was _not_.

_Forget Weasley, _he told himself again, (though a small voice claimed it was impossible),_ there are so many other girls in this school, probably dying to be with you._

But then another voice said,_ But you don't want another air headed bimbo. She's smart and beautiful and vivacious…_

_But she hates your guts! _a more rational conscience argued. _Your families hate each other. It's not worth it._

But the voice was silenced when Rose Weasley walked into the library.

—

Scorpius watched her enter the room, her auburn locks trailing behind her. And then his eyes widened the slightest with disbelief when she sat opposite him.

"Malfoy," she said, emotionlessly. "I was wondering if you'd seen our dormitories yet."

"No I haven't," he's replied just as coolly.

_Play the game_, he thought.

"I left my stuff in the dungeons."

Rose nodded. "Well I haven't either. I was just wondering because we need to set the password," she said, just as curtly.

Ah. Hand it to Weasley to be _considerate._

"I wouldn't trust you to make it something entirely _decent_."

Scorpius almost chortled. Considerate, _indeed_.

"Come now, Weasley. Surely you must have _some_ faith in my ability to act decent?"

"None at all," she replied rather seriously.

"Ouch, that hurt." He clutched at his heart as he drawled on mockingly. Rose eyed him suspiciously. Was she actually having a half-decent conversation with _Scorpius Malfoy?_ Scorpius seemed to notice this, and it disturbed him.

"Of course you would be quite the prude. Any new progress on the Wood front?" He said this as if it were doubtful.

He watched somewhat guilty, somewhat smug as Rose's face flushed and she uttered a "None of your business, you prat."

Then, she stormed off.

—

_What the hell was that?_

Rose didn't understand. Everything about that stupid boy was so damn _confusing._ What was he? Good or evil? And on how he made her _feel…_

She wanted to punch him, but then she didn't. She wanted to give him a hug. And giving Malfoy a _hug_ was not something any sane person would do. _Ever._

_What the hell was she going to do?_

—

_Way to go, Malfoy, _came a sarcastic congratulations from his inner conscience. _Real _mature_, very manly. How long ago was it that you should've given up on childish behavior? Still Third Year, eh?_

_Shut up! _he internally screamed at himself, remembering how stupid he was back then, then realizing how stupid he was acting now. _I wasn't thinking! I just can't…ugh! What am I supposed to do, huh? I can't _like _her! She's _Rose Weasley_! God, if my father knew I was having this conversation with myself…_

_Relax, Scorpius. This is what you wanted. She'll stay the hell away from you, you stay away from her. No complicated feelings. You hate her. That's how it's supposed to be. Rivals. Mortal enemies…_

…_Possible Love Interests._

"Ugh! I cannot believe I'm thinking these thoughts!"

Scorpius realized too late that he had actually shouted this out loud, causing a couple of first years to scurry away from him, and some fourth years to cackle maniacally as they passed. He almost flushed with his embarrassment and hung his head, but then realized those were things he simply did _not_ do. Meanwhile, his internal battle continued.

_Face it, Malfoy, _the voice continued. _There is _no way_ she is staying out of your thoughts. At least not for long. _

_Then what do can you _do _about it? Nothing! She hates your guts! She always has, and always will. A Malfoy and a Weasley can _never _be anything more than enemies._

_Shut up! _Scorpius interjected when the squabble became harder to follow. _I just…I just need some time to think! So bugger off!_

The voices sneered, if that were possible. _What do you think you've been doing?_

Becoming more and more frustrated, Scorpius headed to the infirmary, wondering if Pomfrey had anything for insufferable headaches…

—

Scorpius found Rose standing by their dormitory tapping her foot and waiting impatiently.

"Took you long enough," she huffed, then uttered the password. "_Hogwarts, A History._"

Scorpius rolled his eyes. "Are you serious? Our password is a bloody _book_?"

"Yes," she answered rather smugly. "You took too long to get here, I just decided on a password _myself_. So deal with it." And with that, she entered the portrait hole, slamming her bedroom door behind her.

Scorpius shook his head, entering their shared common room. It was decorated in their house colors—emerald green and red-ruby scarlet—some comfortable looking chairs sat by a blazing fireplace. He stretched out on the sofa, suddenly noticing an envelope addressed to him lying on the coffee table.

_Mr. Scorpius Malfoy,_

_Since you have accepted your position as Head Boy, I have written to inform you of your duties as a Head. You will be responsible for completing patrols with your co-Head, Rose Weasley. _

_(Scorpius groaned, but continued reading.)_

_Patrols will be completed nightly from 9 PM to 11 PM. Because of certain events occurring last term, and also the possibility (and inevitability) of an encounter with Peeves, it is imperative that patrols are performed by two people at once. You must remain with your co-Head for the entire two hour time period. No excuses. No exceptions. _

_(Curse those nightly pranksters! Whoever they were…)_

_You and Ms. Weasley will also be in charge of coordinating, planning, and executing major school events, which can include but are not limited to: all-school gatherings such as balls, concerts, and school fairs. The deadline for your idea is due the first of October._

_With regards,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

Scorpius wanted to scream. How was he supposed to _stay the hell away _from Weasley if it was impossible? They _lived _together for Christ's sake. Consumed with these furious thoughts, he barely noticed another envelope on the table, addressed to Rose.

Half-surprised by his actions, he was soon knocking on Rose's door.

"Weasley," he said, knocking, "there's a letter addressed to you…" His knock remained unanswered, but trying the doorknob, he found that it was unlocked. He opened it, just as Rose decided to enter the room, towel-drying her hair.

"Holy sh—" Malfoy stumbled out of the room as fast as possible, nearly tripping over a dozen things, and rushed to his own dormitory, locking the door behind him.

Gasping and panting, he slumped against the wall, his face covered in sweat.

_Bloody hell. I just saw Weasley_—

"MALFOY!"

_Crap._


	3. Chapter 3

**Truth, Chapter Three**

_Oh. My. God._

Rose was slumped against her dresser, heart racing at a thousand miles per hour, the blood pumping through her veins and arteries at rapid pace, the heat flooding to her face and the tips of her ears.

He saw me. Scorpius Malfoy _saw me._

She had been so surprised when the door opened, on the other side being Malfoy, eyes wide and hair tousled, an envelope in his hand.

Rose saw the shadows of emotion flit across his features: first annoyance, genuine surprise, and as realization dawned on him: shock.

Then: horror.

He stood at the doorway, stock still. Why wasn't he moving? Why wasn't _she _moving? Screaming? Something!

_Cover yourself, Rose!_

Why wasn't she listening? Only a few moments had passed, but it felt to Rose like an eternity-too long. It was like she was stuck in a terrible dream where she couldn't move, couldn't speak. Her mind was screaming at her, but she was paralyzed, frozen in place.

Then he was gone, as quick as he came, the door slamming loudly.

_What just happened?_

Her realization came with the horror of the discovery.

"MALFOY!" she screamed.

All hell was about to break loose.

Kill me now. Kill me _now. _

Why wasn't anything happening? Where was the lightning, the untimely end?

Rose was going to _kill_ him.

He would be dead in his grave and then her crazy relatives would dig him up and kill him again.

_Calm down_, he told himself. _Show no emotion. Show no emotion. Blow it off._

Silently he counted to three, silently praying for a painless exit, silently preparing to be sorely disappointed…

1. . .2. . .3. . .

Rose was standing on the other side of his door—fully clothed, thank God—looking absolutely furious with her red hair, her red face.

"Malfoy! What the _hell _were you doing in _my room_?" she screeched, fuming.

His face remained passive.

"You're overreacting, Weasley," he drawled, sounding bored. "I was just going to give you a letter from McGonagall." He tossed said letter on the floor near Weasley's feet, smirking slightly. Rose's blood boiled.

"That still _doesn't_ give you the right to evade my privacy, you prat!" She hissed, her temperature rising by the second. "And definitely does _not _permit you to be _leering _at me!"

The smirk only grew. "Again, you are exaggerating the situation, Weasley. If I remember correctly, I knocked several times. Also, if my memory serves me right, that door was _unlocked. _No self-decent person would leave it _unlocked_ if they weren't properly dressed." Then, he added, "Not like there was anything to see."

She hated him. She utterly _loathed_ him.

"Get. The. Hell. Away. From. Me." she said through clenched teeth. "I. _Hate_. You."

Satisfied with his achievements, he gave her one last sneer, shutting the door behind him, just barely missing a well-aimed hex.

"The feeling is mutual."

_Good job, Scorpius, _his brain told him. _She officially hates your guts…still._

_Yeah, brilliant, Malfoy, _came a voice telling him the opposite, telling him he was stupid and he should apologize.

_Pfft, as if he's ever apologize_, said the first, _no less to Weasley. Isn't that right, Scorpy?_

Scorpius didn't know anymore. He was torn in his feelings—he wanted to love her, and he wanted to hate her, both without limitations or inhibitions. They were two extremes, and now he was stuck in the middle of the spectrum, not knowing which to choose.

_She thinks you hate her, _said the voice.

_But you know you don't, _came the other.

_And thanks to you, she wouldn't give a damn either way…_

_Yeah. Look what you've done, you idiot._

_What I've done, _he though bitterly. _All these years, all I've _ever _done was make her hate me. I acted so foolish, so childish, even now, seventh year!_

Pathetic.

Why couldn't he just _grow up?_

"The feeling is mutual."

He had no bloody right to say that! She was supposed to have the last word on this! Rose threw a stuffed pillow at the wall so that it hit it with a loud _thump!_

I _hate _him.

Rose wanted to punch something—someone. Malfoy's face flickered instantly to her thoughts, and she smirked, remembering his bloody and broken nose.

_What I wouldn't give to do that again._

But with her Head Girl badge on the line, she wouldn't risk it. There had to be a better ways to get back at him which were less physical, but still equally painful. There had to be, and she would find one.

"Lily Luna Potter!"

Rose banged on her cousin's dorm, five in the morning. Shuffling and footsteps could be heard as Lily made her way to the door, eyes still glazed with sleep. She yawned, eying Rose curiously. _What is she doing up at this ungodly hour?_

"What is it, Rosie?" she wondered, not quite awake. "It's five in the morning."

Rose rolled her eyes, as if the answer were obvious. "I've decided to take you up on your offer."

Lily raised an eyebrow. _She couldn't mean…?_

"The one where you…er…have free reign." Rose bit her lip as she said this, trying to decide if this was what she wanted, and half-convincing herself yes, and that it would be worth it in the end.

Immediately, all traces sleepiness disappeared from Lily's expression, as it turned into one of absolute greed and determination. The glint in her eye was almost manic, and Rose almost turned around right then, if not for Lily's iron-grip on her forearm, dragging her inside the room.

"I'm so glad you've finally came around, Rosie," said Lily in a strange voice, before yelling for Roxanne and Dominique.

"Uh, maybe I'm starting to regret this," said Rose, as she saw the three of them crowded around her with various appliances and cases.

"Oh, no you don't," said Lily, sitting her down in a large chair. "I've been waiting for this for ages."

"Blimey! What have you _done to my sister!_" Hugo had noticed the amount of shameless gawking going on, and glared accusingly at Lily, who was smug as ever. Albus was still speechless, a spoonful of porridge forgotten as it lingered halfway between the bowl and his gaping mouth.

Rose smiled indulgently. Now, she wondered if he would—

"Ooh, Rosie, look. Benjamin Wood is heading your way," said Lily, as if she could read minds. "And, look, Malfoy is gawking, too." Rose spun on her heel, and sure enough, the Slytherin Prince was staring. She steeled herself to resist his penetrating gaze, those grey eyes that she knew she couldn't resist, and turned to face a grinning Wood.

"Hello, Rose," he greeted. "You look amazing, today." Rose's heart fluttered in her chest, and she grinned back at him.

"And I didn't yesterday?" she asked him.

He kept cool, calm, an answer already on his tongue. "You always look amazing. But today, you _glow_."

"Really, Wood? What are you getting at?" She was reeling him in, leaning towards him just in a tiny, unnoticeable way, coming closer and closer...

"That you're beautiful, and beautiful, I want to take you out to Hogsmeade." He leaned in and caught Rose's hand, bent over and kneeled before her. "Say yes."

Rose pretended to think it over, though she already knew her answer.

"Malfoy looks jealous, Rosie," commented Lily bluntly. "He looks like he'll throttle Wood any second now." _This is it, _she thought. _This is what I wanted._

She turned to face the Malfoy boy, sending him a convincing glare which seemed to make him shrink ever so slightly. And then, she smirked.

_Watch me._


	4. Chapter 4

**Truth, Chapter Four**

**P.S. Sorry. Angst.**

**On the bright side, you get to see jealous Malfoy. ;)**

Scorpius utterly _loathed_ Rose Weasley.

Scorpius also lied to himself rather easily, which was exactly what he was doing when _she_ walked in the room. Why he could sense her presence instantly was beyond him—it was a sudden change in the very air that he breathed, the sudden acceleration in his heart rate—that signified her appearance.

_She's not that attractive. There's nothing to look at._

_She's __**just **__Weasley._

Though he was staring at her like there was nothing _else _worth looking at. Chang and Parkinson must've seen where he was gawking, because they scowled and glared at the redhead.

Not that Malfoy noticed.

Or maybe it was because _everyone-_not just Malfoy—was staring at the girl, who walked into the room with a new-found persona. Maybe it was her fury, bubbling under the surface, mistaken for some sort of beautiful ferocity. Or maybe it just was that here was Rose Weasley, Head Girl-Extraordinaire—who seemed to make an effort in _everything_ but her looks—walking into the Great Hall looking like such a…_girl_.

Then there was Wood.

Scorpius was seeing red.

That _prat_.

Malfoy saw the Gryffindor Keeper, strutting ever-so-confident, and—he tried not to gag—taking Rose's hand. He saw him sweet talk the girl, an arrogant grin on his face. He saw that glint in his eyes, the assurance in himself, in her answer.

_Look at him…he is such a…_

_Obnoxious bastard? Shameless flirt? Ruthless-_

Then there was that voice instead him again, the one that told the deep-down truth:

_-everything you are, too?_

Scorpius gritted his teeth. _Yes, he's just like me. _

"Yes."

One word, one syllable, three little letters.

_Yes, I will go to Hogsmeade._

_Yes, I will go with you._

_Yes…_

An exclamation of victory: 'yes.' Giving her all she had ever wanted. What she _wants_, present tense.

Then why was everything inside her feeling so…empty?

"I knew it," said Wood. "I can't wait, Beautiful." He released her hand, stood, and winked. "See you soon."

Any other day, and Rose Weasley would have swooned. Melted at his feet. But today was…different. Three words were sending shivers down her spine. And not the good kind of shivers.

_See you soon._

"_See you later, Parkinson."_

The way he said it was so like _him_.

She wanted to run. But instead, she smiled, just a little too tightly, and sat down next to her cousins.

"It finally happened, Rosie!" squealed Lily. "I am such a _genius_."

"Yeah," said Rose, not looking at her. "Sure."

_Forget about her, Scorpius._

"Scorpius," came a voice. "Earth to Malfoy." It was Zabini. "Practice tonight, remember?"

"Of course I remember." He had meant to snap at the boy, but it was useless. "I _am_ captain of the team." He arched an eyebrow at Marcus, daring him to question further.

"You just seem…out of it," the boy said. He shrugged, walking away.

Scorpius smiled slightly to himself. Of all his "friends", Zabini was his closest. He wasn't a _complete_ dunderhead, and Scorpius had a rare sort of respect for the Slytherin.

But maybe he was a bit too astute.

_Or maybe you're just being a bit too obvious._

Scorpius couldn't deny his thoughts were in turmoil. He had escaped to the unusually empty common room in the dungeons, not wanting to encounter _her_ again.

But now he could no longer wallow in his solitude. He strapped on his Quidditch gear and headed for the pitch.

"What do you mean, this is _your _practice?"

The Malfoy boy was being confronted by a fiery-haired Hugo Weasley. His anger showed in the red splotches on his freckled face.

"I _mean_, Weasley," said Scorpius, slowly, as if he were correcting a child, "that _Slytherin_ is scheduled for practice _right now_." He held out the approved schedule to the younger Weasley, which seemed to infuriate him more.

"Oh yeah? I'll wipe that pretty-boy smile off your face, you—"

"Stop it, Hugo."

Albus Potter looked at the scene with an air of annoyance. The redhead stepped away, though his hands were still clenched in angry fists. "Look Malfoy. There's been a mistake. I talked to McGonagall, we were both scheduled on the same day. I guess we'll just have to _share_."

Scorpius nodded. Of the Weasley-Potter clan, Albus was the most admirable. He lacked the famous tempers of his relatives, and exuded actual intelligence.

"Fine with me. But—" here the captain inserted a classic smirk, "I was wondering if you were up for a quick match?"

There was a glint in the eldest Potter's gaze, and Scorpius knew he would accept. "Only if you're ready to lose."

The final score was 160-150, in favor of Scorpius. He had not let the Quaffle pass a single time, much to the dismay of Rose. He had seen the anger behind her sapphire eyes grow to such an intensity it was smoldering. But Albus—of course—had caught the Snitch, ending the game.

"Nice work, Malfoy," said Potter. "But _don't_ expect us to come unprepared next time."

_Oh, but I do, _he thought smugly. _And you will._

Rose, once again, had found herself hating Scorpius Malfoy She had been utterly humiliated at practice, with him so effortlessly blocking each and every one of her throws. And she couldn't even justify her anger.

He was _good_.

Not that she would _ever_ admit it.

She towel-dried her hair with a sigh, and stepped out into the joint-common room her and Scorpius shared.

She was surprised to see him there by the fire, staring blackly at the flickering embers.

"Weasley," he said.

"Malfoy."

She sat opposite to him, picking up a book. They were both still in the eerie calm, the only sound the crackling flames and an occasional page flip.

"Why do you keep biting your lip like that?"

Rose was surprised at the question, and even more so discovering she _was_ biting her lip, a sign that she was _nervous_.

"_Why _are you _watching_ me?" she snapped back.

"Why not?" said Scorpius, his expression blank as parchment.

"_Hm, I don't know_, maybe because you said something like,_ 'It's not like there's anything to see'?"_

Rose could feel her fury bubbling up to the surface, though she tried to steel herself.

"Is _that_ why you're angry?"

No reply came.

"Well then, I'm sorry."

"Sorry I ever laid eyes on you."

And it was the truth. He couldn't stand anymore of her plaguing his thoughts, ruining his peace in this way.

He _wanted _her.

Irrationally.

But he needed her to hate him, to push him away.

To _leave him alone._

Because the alternative was impossible.

It was forbidden.

And she could never know the truth.

So here they were.

He watched blankly as she stood, red-faced and slapped him.

Hard.

Her nails raked his face, and he felt the blood begin to flow.

He didn't even flinch.

And then she was gone, door slamming behind her.

He was motionless. There was blood on his face, on his neck, on the collar of his shirt, but he didn't care. He could have easily healed the wound with a spell, but he let it bleed.

So he would remember.


	5. Chapter 5

**Truth, Chapter 5**

**P.S. More Angst.**

Rose left her room hours later, bleary-eyed, face raw and red from crying. There was the taste of salt in her mouth.

It was too early to be awake, but she couldn't sleep with the same horrifying scene playing behind her eyes.

Malfoy looking at her blankly. Apologizing. Then saying he wished she didn't exist. The fury she felt. The blood on his face, on her hands. His expression never changing.

And she left him there.

He was long gone, though, when she entered the same room once more, and she lay on the sofa, the very same one he had occupied. She looked down at the ornate rug spread across the wood, and saw the dark stain.

_His blood on her hand_s.

She had wanted to hurt him.

But not like this.

It was like he _wanted_ her to strike him. He knew it was going to happen.

And he just _sat_ there, staring at her.

His skin was surprisingly soft beneath her fingertips and she had hesitated for a moment before she struck, wondering if he was really the monster she'd always thought he was.

But her anger had gotten the best of her.

_Like he knew it would,_ she thought bitterly. And she lay staring at the stark ceiling, imagining his face looking back at her as she finally fell asleep.

"Hullo, family!" Rose greeted cheerily as she sat down for breakfast.

Hugo looked at her disbelievingly. "Okay, what are you stashing, sister?"

"_What?" _Rose feigned ignorance, gobbling up her food with unusual vigor. "Can't I greet my own flesh and blood with a smile?" She smiled again, to prove her point.

"_Not_," began Albus, "After you left practice like that yesterday. You were _mad_. It looked like you were about to take someone's head off."

Hugo muttered under his breath sounding something like, "She _always_ looks like that."

Rose ignored him.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"_Come on_, guys," said Lily, who, of course, had been eavesdropping. "This is obviously because of Malfoy. How dense can you be? Really." She shook her auburn curls ashamedly. "She was mad because Malfoy didn't let her score even once, and they've gotten into some sort of row, and now she's trying to cover it all up by being cheerful. I bet she even cried herself to sleep yesterday, too."

"Daaaamn."

Hugo, Albus, and Patrick Longbottom all looked at the youngest Potter with a mixture of disbelief, respect, and pride. _Nothing_ got past that child. Especially not the conflict between Rose and Scorpius, whose odd relationship had been a special interest of hers for the past four years. She was even taking bets…

"Again, I'm sure you're mistaken, Lil," Rose dabbed at an imaginary smudge by the side of her mouth. "I assure you, there is _nothing_ going on between us."

"And why would there be?" came a sly voice.

Wood.

He hooked an arm around the girl's waist, tugging her towards him. "Morning, Gorgeous. Are you ready for our date?"

"Of course," she forced a smile. His arm around her felt unusually heavy, and…_possessive. _She resisted the urge to squirm uncomfortably, and slid her own arm around his torso. "I'll see you at the carriages."

"Nonsense," said Wood, grinning his famous grin. "I'll pick you up."

"Rose, _what are you doing?_" It was Lily again, hand on her hips, watching as the elder Weasley assessed her appearance in the full-view mirror.

"Getting ready," she said simply, not meeting her cousin's gaze.

"Rose, I know something's…off. You and Wood-" she shook her head at Rose's current outfit with a frown. "-it's not the same. You look at him like you're _afraid_ of him."

Rose ignored Lily, opting for a pair of faded blue jeans and a hooded sweater.

"You can't be serious."

She put them back in her closet, looking forlorn.

"_Rose_," persisted the girl, "_Talk_ to me."

She sighed, "Lily…I just _don't know_ anymore."

And then she cried.

_You did the right thing._

_Sure,_ thought Scorpius. _Sure I did._

_No, really, _came his thoughts, _This is what you both wanted, what you both need. _

_Isn't it?_

"I don't think I know anything about anything anymore."

"Oh god, your makeup is a disaster."

Despite everything, Rose managed to crack a smile.

"_Really_," she said, "my work is _so_ unappreciated." She eyed Rose carefully. "Are you _sure_ you still want to go?"

Rose nodded slowly.

She was going to give this a chance.

And her mascara was running.

_Why are you here?_

Hogsmeade was faded and brown on the first trip of the year. The streets were streaked with mud, and the leaves on the trees were half-hearted colors of yellow, orange, and bay. Scorpius trudged down quiet walkways, and in silence watched close-fit couples walk past, feeling a bit empty himself.

He wandered aimlessly, stopping suddenly as he discovered the two last people he wanted to see, together in passionate embrace.

He didn't understand why he couldn't move from where he was standing, watching in a perverted sort of horror as they held each other, there in an alleyway of Hogsmeade.

Rose was pressed up against a brick wall, Benjamin Wood with his arms around her, her hands in his hair, and they were tangled and red-faced.

_Just leave_, he told himself. _What they do doesn't concern you. _

_It never has._

And he turned his back on them, trying to not to watch, trying not picture himself there—where he so desperately needed to be.

"What'll it be, lad?"

Scorpius cursed quietly as he repaired his right hand with his wand. Punching the wall had been stupid. But his anger and shock had subsided, so now there was only a dull ache where his heart should be, like some gaping hole that felt no pain, only emptiness. He looked up at the man behind the counter, enunciating carefully.

"Firewhiskey. Lots of it."

The bartender of Hog's Head eyed Scorpius warily. A look of understanding came across his face and he complied, sliding the drink across the counter. "Girl troubles, son?"

Scorpius chuckled darkly. "Am I that easy to read?"

The old man continued polishing an empty beer glass and nodded. "Looks like you walked into a room and found your girlfriend snogging your best friend."

"Not exactly." He slid his own empty glass back, motioning for a refill.

"Well, then." The man put the glass down. "I'm not getting any younger."


	6. Chapter 6

**Truth, Chapter Six**

**P.S. Less angst? Yes. Crazy Lily? Yes. Drunk Scorpius? Hell, yess.**

"I'm not getter any younger, now am I?" said the man.

Scorpius smirked, a little unwillingly. "Blokes like me come here often?"

"Oh, every once in a while," he replied, nonchalantly resting his elbows on the counter. "I do what I can." He shrugged, eying Scorpius' empty glass. "How drunk are you planning on getting?"

"Is there a level of alcohol consumption that triggers memory loss?" asked the younger of the pair. He beckoned for the man to pour another glass. The man hesitated slightly before complying.

"Listen to me, boy. You can't change what's happened in the past, or erase the damage that's done. It may be painful to remember, but you remember how much you've screwed up so you don't do it again. You hear me?"

Scorpius looked at the elderly man over the rim of his Firewhiskey. "You screw up a lot?" he asked, starting to slur in his speech.

The man looked him square in the eye and said, "Only when it mattered."

For a moment, there was silence, except for the sound of Scorpius downing another shot of the burning liquid.

"So tell me," said the boy finally, feeling a bit lightheaded, "was she hot?"

The bartender couldn't help but crack a smile. "I think you've had a bit too much to drink, lad. Get your moping arse out of my bar and go fix whatever the hell you screwed up."

"I think you're right," said the boy, before laying his cash on the counter. "But it's not so late for yourself either."

"You think so?"

The Malfoy boy looked back at the man before closing the door behind him.

"Your advice."

"Well," said the barman, to himself more than anything. "I better pour myself some of that alcohol…"

"Okay, spill."

"He was an _amazing_ kisser."

Rose listened half-heartedly to the latest common-room gossip. It had been awhile since she spent some time in Gryffindor tower, and she found herself missing its scarlet cushions and busy chatter.

"So…" said Lily, plopping down on the sofa next to Rose, "How'd it go?"

"We went to Madam Puddifoot's and we talked…" began Rose. Roxanne and Dominique leaned in closer from their seats by the fire, obviously anxious for news. "Mostly about him," she added sourly. The girls looked a bit put out, going back to their chess game.

"And…?" prodded Lily, knowing she was leaving something out.

"And," sighed Rose, "we snogged."

"Hah!" exclaimed Lily. Roxanne and Dominique quickly abandoned their game, in favor of scooting next to their elder cousins. Albus walked past, giving them all a questioning look.

"That's three galleons, five knuts, brother!" said Lily, holding out a hand. He ignored her, walking away quickly as if he hadn't heard, but Rose could hear a muted groan as he slammed his dormitory's door behind him. Rose couldn't suppress an eye roll. "Really, Lil," she said, "If you keep this up, your brother's going to be flat broke by the time he leaves Hogwarts."

"Acceptable losses," said Lily, inspecting her perfectly manicured nails, "A girl can't look _this_ fabulous without a price."

"Tell us, Rose-" interjected Roxanne.

"-Yes, tell us," interrupted Dominique, "Was he any good?" The two were practically bouncing in their seats in anticipation of the juicy details.

Rose sighed. "He was all right," she admitted. They _had_ spent quite sometime in that alleyway…

Lily frowned. "What's wrong, Rosie?" Hugo had entered the commons and came closer to the sofa, eavesdropping. "Three galleons, five knuts, and a butterbeer!" cried Lily, causing Hugo to jump in surprise and make a made dash for the portrait hole. "Don't think I won't collect!" she threatened, her face still turned towards Rose. "Foolish boys," she muttered. "Where was I? Oh yes, what's with the sighing and frowning, Rose?"

"I don't know what you mean," insisted Rose. "Everything's perfectly fine."

Lily sighed herself. "Don't take me for a idiot, Rose. You just had one of your biggest dreams come true," here she paused before boasting, "-courtesy of moi, of course-" then regained her train of thought, "and you're not happy about it. Don't tell me _nothing's wrong."_

"He's just so…_vain_," said Rose truthfully. "All he wanted to do was talk about his Quidditch accomplishment's…"

"Ooooh," chimed Roxanne and Dominique, "sounds interesting!"

"…and then his _dad's _Quidditch accomplishments…"

"Aaaaah…" the cousins frowned slightly.

"…and _then_ he bragged about '_all the girls who'd be dying to be with him…'"_

"Ughhhhhhh…" Roxy and Dominique were looking more and more disinterested by the second, finally realizing how shallow their favorite piece of Gryffindor eye-candy actually was. "Excuse us, we're going to…burn something."

Lily eyed them knowingly as they left, while Rose remained oblivious, continuing her rundown of the day's events. "And then all he wanted to do after was snog my brains out. It felt like I was going to have a cerebral hemorrhage." She shook her head in dismay.

"Mmhmm, I see," said Lily. "And the whole time, you were thinking about Scorpius, weren't you?"

"Well, ye-" Rose covered her mouth in horror, sputtering, "-wait, _what?"_

"_I knew it_." Lily assessed her cousin carefully. "You think he's _much_ better looking than Wood, don't you?" She scooted towards the girl, wedging her into a corner of the sofa. "You think he's not in the _least_ bit shallow, since you've seen there's actually _something_ buried in those gorgeous gray eyes, don't you?" Lily's eyes were twinkling with a manic gleam. Rose was cowering helplessly from the girl. She was trapped. "_Don't you, Rosie?"_

Against his will, he sought her out.

"_Mr. Malfoy," said McGonagall, intercepting him on his way back from Hogsmeade. "I do suggest that you and Ms. Weasley begin your event planning soon…it is nearly the beginning of October. I trust it shouldn't be too difficult, seeing as you share the same living quarters…"_

_Scorpius bowed his head slightly, for once not wanting to meet the elderly witch's gaze. "You see, Professor," he began, "she hasn't been around the commons lately." He shrugged. "My guess is she's spending some time with her Gryffindor family." _

"_Well then," said the Headmistress, "There is a simple solution to that problem."_

So now he found himself in front of a painting of a fat lady.

The woman eyed him appraisingly. "You aren't from around here, are you lad?" she questioned slyly. "What brings a handsome boy like you to my portrait?" she wondered aloud.

"Business," he said, smirking attractively so that the lady swooned visibly. "_Mimbulus Mimbletonia," _he enunciated. A bit reluctantly, the door swung open, revealing the cozy commons. Unlike the cold, dark dungeons, the room was embellished with bright scarlets and golds. And it was _warm_.

At first, there seemed to be no change in the atmosphere. Then, slowly, his presence became known, and the whispers filled the air like the insistent fluttering of wings.

"It's Malfoy."

"That Slytherin, Scorpius, isn't he-"

"Oh, he's _gorgeous_, is he single?"

"_What the bloody hell are you doing here?"_

Of course, it was Hugo.

"None of your business, Weasley," he said coolly. "Care to tell me where Rose is?"

"If you think, for one second, that I'm letting the thick-head of yours anywhere _near_ my sister-"

"Enough, Hugo. I'm right here."

He couldn't help it.

His breath caught when he saw her.

He disguised it as an offhand cough. "Weasley," he said.

"What _are_ you doing here, _Malfoy_?" she demanded, hands-on-her-hips, her ocean-blue eyes not quite meeting his.

"McGonagall said we should collaborate on some _Heads' business," _he emphasized as others began to listen in. "She said it couldn't wait and told me where to find you." Which wasn't true. _He_ had _known _where to find her.

"Well then," she said abruptly, "I better get going. _Goodbye, _Lily." And with that, she exited the room, dozens of pairs of eyes watching her leave. Scorpius turned to follow, and he noted with curiosity, Lily Potter's fiery gaze on her cousin's retreating back.

They walked back to their dormitories in silence.

But Rose couldn't help but cast a glance at him from the corner of her eye, seeing the healing gashes on the side of his face. _He didn't heal it with magic…_she realized with astonishment. _He could have easily-_

"Weasley," said Malfoy, who had seen her staring. "I know I'm irresistibly attractive, but we're here now."

Rose stirred from her reverie, and stood, stiff with her embarrassment. "_Hogwarts, a History." _She stepped into the room, utterly surprised when she spun around to find Scorpius staring straight at her. _Into_ her was a more accurate description, his metallic gaze fastened on hers. Though the moment was gone as quick as it came.

He was the first to break it.

"Have any ideas in that _brilliant_ mind of yours, Weasley?" He was sarcastic, but Rose couldn't help but wonder if the statement had been a compliment in disguise. She shook her head no, to both him and herself.

"Well then," said Scorpius. Clearly he _had_ an idea. "How about we reinstate the Halloween Ball." Rose thought about this.

"It's a safe option," she said, "But not very original."

"But it will be," he insisted, then elaborated as she listened with sudden curiosity.

And Rose couldn't help be believe him.

And maybe just this once-as crazy as it sounded to even herself-begin to trust him.

Just a little.


	7. Chapter 7

**Truth, Chapter Seven**

**DISCLAIMER: The idea of the masks was not original. I got it from a different fanfiction, some wonderfully written piece, whose name I don't remember. I do believe it was a Draco/Hermione fic...if anyone knows the author, I would appreciate if I could have their name in order to properly credit them. X) Thanks.**

_That last night…_

"You think it should be a…masquerade ball?" Of course, the answer to Rose's question was completely obvious, seeing as Malfoy _had_ just suggested it.

"I _just_ answered that, Weasley," he answered unnecessarily, his smirk not disappointing.

"But the idea is just so…" _Romantic. _Rose hadn't imagined Scorpius would have any ideas for the event, let alone _good ideas. _How much thought had he actually put into this? Probably more than he would ever let on… She shook her head as if loss for words. Better to let her think her speechless than of actually considering _flattering_ him with adjectives like _romantic. _Really.

"Astonishingly brilliant?" he suggested.

"Yes," she said sarcastically, "I wasn't expecting anything remotely _close_ coming from _you."_ For a moment, the boy looked at loss for words himself, but instead of getting angry, he smirked…or was it that he smiled? No, this was _Malfoy_, he couldn't be _smiling._ Rose blinked twice, and checked again. That was indeed a _smirk_ on his face, putting her at ease…but she hadn't imagined that smile…had she?

_A Week Later…_

"Thanks, Uncle George." Rose Weasley gratefully took possession of the five medium-sized cardboard boxes her Uncle had personally brought to the castle. "These are sure to be a hit…"

"No problemo, Rosie." He leaned back and examined a piece of his handiwork. "Some _real_ Masquerade masks. No one'll be able to distinguish anyone's distinguishing features, so long as this stays on," he held up one for Rose's inspection. Then he winked. "Of course, you'll be able to distinguish between _different_ people, so as not to make everyone _too _confused."

"McGonagall says the masks are approved…" Scorpius eyed Rose, who was carrying more boxes to their dormitory. With so many in front of her, she failed to see the person walking towards her, his head in a rather interesting novel.

"Rose, watch it!"

Without any time to reconsider his actions, he caught the girl just as she plummeted to the ground, and with a free hand, levitated the boxes into neat stacks by their door. He was so concentrated in this act, that he forgot he was still holding her, his arm around her waist.

"Um."

"Oh."

He let her go, surprised to see himself so close to her, who was pulled close as he had moved to protect her. She stepped away from him, using her own wand to deposit the boxes in the common room of their dorm.

"Hey, Malfoy?" she asked, while he stood watching her managing the charm.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

He couldn't possibly see her expression from where he was standing, but if he could, he would see the girl's secret smile…

_Three days later…_

Rose sighed, putting down her book.

"Okay, Lily, talk to me. It's been _days_."

Lily moved her magazine so that Rose could see her fix her icy gaze on Rose's exasperated one. An eyebrow arched as if to ask: _Why should I?_

"I'll tell you the dance's theme in advance," she offered.

Lily and her girlish tendencies couldn't resist:

"_Tell me __now_, _Rose Weasley."_

Then, she gasped in realization: "The event is a _dance?__" _She was jumping about Rose's dormitory, grudge now forgotten. Rose shook her head in disbelief. Sometimes her cousin was so…

"Shhh!" she pleaded. "Don't tell the whole castle! It's a surprise announcement!"

Lily sobered.

"And the theme?" she prodded.

Rose grinned. "Masquerade." She covered her ears as another anticipated scream reverberated off the walls…

_October 24, a week before the ball…_

The castle was in full frenzy as it awaited the Halloween ball. The announcement of the event had been greeted earsplitting approval at breakfast time the week before. Now, students were pairing up, milling about and worrying about their costumes and their dates. Gaggles of girls traveled in packs throughout the halls, and Rose watched them with an air of amusement.

"So," said Lily, startling Rose as she appeared seemingly from nowhere, "I suppose you're going with Wood?"

Rose looked at her cousin, perplexed.

"What gives you that idea?" she wondered, making her way to Charms.

"Well," said the girl, as if dropping a casual piece of news—she was _fabulous_ at gossip—"that _is_ what he's been spouting, strutting about the castle. He seems to think he has an ample amount of control over you."

"It was just one date," the other girl protested, "I haven't even _talked_ to him since."

Lily shrugged. "they're rumors, Rosie. I doubt you'll have to worry so much." Then she smirked, sending shivers up her spine as Rose was reminded of a certain other boy. "Looks like pretty-boy Gryffindor'll be going _solo._" And with that, she left her, off—no doubt—to erase any untrue rumors on Rose's behalf, dying to spill the latest news…

_Noon_

"What do you _mean_, you haven't got a date yet?" Lily demanded of her elder, Roxy and Dominique flanked on either side of her with mirroring looks of astonishment.

"I thought I told you this earlier…"

"I _thought _you meant you weren't going with Wood, not that you weren't going with _anybody!" _she exclaimed, incredulous.

Rose sighed, saying quietly, "You don't have to broadcast it to the whole world, Lil."

"But what about Malfoy?" pouted Lily.

"What do you mean, 'what about Malfoy'? Why would _my_ sister even _consider _that self-righteous-"

"Hugo, stop it," interrupted Albus, for the umpteenth time, calmly buttering a piece of bread. He always seemed to defend the Slytherin. "He's not such a bad guy, if you get to know him."

While Hugo gaped at his cousin in open-mouthed horror, Rose sent him a thankful smile. Sometimes, listening to her brother complain endlessly about the guy was just so _annoying_.

And, of course, she used to be just _like_ him.

"Actually, Hugo's right. As I said before, _nothing_ is going on with Malfoy."

Lily frowned, believing otherwise.

"Weasley," came a familiar drone, "We've got all the decorations we ordered for the ball. Setup is the day before the dance."

"Good to know," she said, making to enter the Gryffindor common room. Odd, she had thought, to run into him all the way up here.

Had he sought her out?

It couldn't be.

"Weasley," Malfoy had summoned her out of her thoughts once more, and she looked at him again to see her back against the wall, him leaning over her. "Why do you keep looking at me like that?" he asked, grey eyes searching her face again. His scent was overpowering and intoxicating, whatever it was being nothing something she could pinpoint with ease.

"I don't know what you mean," she said, suddenly uncomfortable with their close proximity. He watched her carefully, knowing she was lying.

"Who're you going with to the ball?" He sprung the question suddenly—it surprised even himself.

"Why do you need to know?" She was suddenly hostile, defensive.

"Curious," he claimed, then shrugged. "It's not _that_ important." He gave her a look that seemed to deem her as childish as her brother. "You don't have to throw a fit."

'I am not throwing a fit!' she wanted to scream back at him, but of course, doing so would prove otherwise.

Scorpius made to leave, his scent not so overwhelming so that she was able to think clearly.

"No one."

Scorpius turned at the sound of her voice, and looked back at her with—what was it? Surprise? Relief? A combination of the two? Or was it a sudden cautiousness, one that might shatter any moment if he-

"The answer is 'no one'," she repeated, more for the benefit of diverting her thoughts than for his comprehension, watching his face morph back into an expressionless stare. "Not," she added, "that it's any of your business."

_Later, that same day…_

Rose was walking back from the tower to her own dormitory, the sound of her shoes echoing in the strangely vacant corridors. She had passed a fourth-floor lavatory when—

"Well, well. If it isn't Hogwarts' own Ms. 'I'm better than you'!" The voice sounded strange to Rose, who was unfamiliar with its speaker. Soon, she found herself surrounded by girls with matching menacing glowers, the same threatening curl to their lips. She suddenly recognized two faces among the sea of others. Chang and Parkinson. She was outnumbered.

Ambushed.

"Rose Weasley," spat Parkinson. "Top of Class. Little Miss Perfect Daughter from her Perfect Little Family."

"Teacher's pet," said Chang, and then with lucid bitterness, "_Head Girl._"

"You have it _all_, Weasley," said another girl, whom Rose realized was one of Wood's Gryffindor fan girls. "And we've decided to put an end to that."

Scorpius was taking a walk. He had spent the past few weeks devoting all time and energy to schoolwork, Quidditch, and preparing for the ball. But now that there was nothing left to do, the thoughts he had been determined to banish were bothering him again.

"_You heard her, Scorpy," _he was told, _"She's not going with anyone."_

"_Yeah—which means __you__—"_

"_Should stay out of it." _He unbearably rational voice was saying. _"Your father would __disown__ you if he found out." _And another voice gave a mangled impression of Rose, not two hours before: _"And it's 'none of your business', Malfoy."_

Scorpius tried to swat away the thoughts, but their chatter was getting louder and louder…

They were _real_ voices.

He stopped in front of a girls' bathroom, the door slightly ajar so that he could see a cluster of girls—

"Stay _away_ from Scorpius!" shrieked Petunia, who had obviously lost it. Her part-Asian counterpart held her back, inches from another girl's face. Scorpius couldn't decipher her features, but soon recognized the girl's familiar voice:

"I doubt that could possibly help _your_ chances."

_Rose?_

Now both Chang and Parkinson made to attack the redhead, enraged and fuming.

"Stop it."

At last, the Malfoy boy emerged from the shadows. He just couldn't watch…

"Sc-sc-Scorpius!" stuttered the surprised Slytherin, unhanding a fistful of Rose's hair.

Scorpius smirked, assuming his usual persona, causing several girls to back away from the Weasley girl.

He approached Petunia, reaching out to cup her face. She trembled under his gaze, though had thought she was saved. "Petunia," he said, not without a hint of venom. "You may be _somewhat_ attractive on the outside," he released his grip on her and she gasped. "But I can't _stand_ girls with such _ugly _personalities." His cold stare froze her to the spot, wreck with the horror of what was taking place.

Then, he turned to the others. His voice was quiet, but menacing.

"I couldn't help but overhear the conversation," he said. "I'm _sure_ you girls _couldn't_ have been just threatening our Head Girl. Am I correct?"

There was silence.

Slowly, heads nodded.

"That's what I thought." Another smirk. "Let's go, Weasley."

Another walk in silence.

Rose didn't mind. She was still adjusting to the fact that Malfoy had just _stood up for her._ He walked quickly, and she lingered slightly behind him, watching the back of his neck. He sighed when they reached their portrait hole, spinning around to face the girl behind him. It looked as though her were about to say something, but he just shook his head and entered their dormitory, leaving Rose puzzled…

_The day before the ball…_

Scorpius rolled up his sleeves, stepping back. He eyed the Great Hall with an ample amount of self-satisfaction. The creak of a large wooden door opening echoed throughout the space, and Scorpius turned to see Rose walking in.

She was wearing a pair of jeans and some t-shirt with a faded band logo, yet Scorpius wondered why he found her more and more beautiful every time he saw her enter a room.

"Wow."

Rose assessed his work with obvious approval. "You did all this?" she asked, genuinely—though pleasantly—surprised. She shook her head. "I didn't even do anything…"

"You helped me plan," said Scorpius, taking a step over to where she stood. "I'm sorry I went ahead and did everything already. I had to…get my mind off things."

He had expected her to be mad. But here she was, staring at the fruit of his labor with awe. "You can look over the menu if you want," he suggested tentatively. She nodded, taking the piece of paper from his hand.

"Everything's fine," she said, scanning the list quickly. She frowned slightly.

"Why are you frowning then?" said the boy, not believing she was satisfied.

"It's just…I feel like I didn't _do_ anything." She frowned again. "Usually, I end up doing _everything_." Her partners in class had always been lazy, knowing she would take care of their grade anyways.

"Well," said Scorpius, a suddenly mysterious expression on his face. "There is one thing."

Rose looked at him suspiciously. "What?"

"We could test it out."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "What do you mean?" He couldn't mean—

"Dance with me, Rose."

Had he just called her _Rose_?

She looked up at him staring down at her, the irises of his eyes unusually dark. Their stormy depths were making her dizzy again.

Somewhere, music was playing. The lights dimmed, and Rose looked around to see both of them coincidentally in the center of the dance floor. Scorpius took her hand, and they danced.

"Scorpius," she breathed. This part of him had been unknown to her…she wanted to touch him, to make sure _this_—that he—actually existed…

"Shh," he said. "You're not supposed to know who I am."

"But-"

"None of that," he insisted. "Names don't matter now."

So they danced together, not speaking a word.

Slowly, the song came to an end.

Scorpius stepped back, turning his back to her before he said,

"Goodnight, Weasley."

He began walking away, planning to exit the Great Hall before Rose could say another word. But—

"Wait!" Rose was surprised to find her hand on his wrist, stopping him. "I-" she started, then, losing the nerve, "Forget it." And she watched as he walked away from her…

_Halloween, 17:00_

Scorpius adjusted an emerald green tie in the reflective piece of glass before him.

"Hello, Marcus." The dark-haired, dark-eyed boy was standing behind him, his reflection staring at Malfoy in the mirror.

"No date, Scorpius?" he wondered.

"Not tonight."

"Ah," he said. "I see."

"And you, Zabini?"

The boy grinned. "Lily Luna Potter."

That was a surprise. But then again, maybe it shouldn't have been so unexpected. They were not unlike each other, after all. _Well matched_, thought Scorpius, seeing Lily in his mind's eye holding her own against the Slytherin boy.

"Enjoy yourself, mate." He gave the boy one rare, genuine grin, and clapped him on the back. "Just don't get injured. I need you on the field."

Taken aback by his statement, Zabini answered, "I can take care of myself well enough, Malfoy."

The silver-eyed one looked back at him, still standing in his doorway.

"It's not _you_ I'm worried about, Marcus."

"Oh, Rose, you look stunning."

Rose was wearing a red dress that fitted her torso like a sort of corset, her skirts billowing beneath her. A ruby-and-gold necklace hung from her pale neck, and she felt dangerous in a pair of Lily's ridiculous, teetering shoes.

"I feel so…unbalanced," she decided, casting a simple charm on the heels, to prevent her from tripping on her own feet.

Lily herself was wearing a scandalously _jade_ dress that had black lace beneath the hem, coming a bit below mid-thigh. An emerald ribbon was tied around her waist into a perfect bow near her right hip.

Rose thought _she_ looked undeniably _striking_.

"You'll get used to it," assured the girl in green. "Come on, Marcus is waiting outside."

Rose nodded, still getting used to the fact that the girl was dating the Slytherin. But, she had thought he was a rather decent guy, and certainly keen enough for Lily. With one last glance in the mirror, she exited the room, ready to descend to the party below…


	8. Chapter 8

**Truth, Chapter 8**

**P.S. Stupid Wood.**

**He's just not hot drunk.**

**Kiss? Yes. Stupid Rose? Unfortunately, Yes.**

**Scorpius gives in? Finally.**

The moment Rose entered the Great Hall, she couldn't help but marvel once again at Malfoy's handiwork. The decorations were spectacularly magical, and thousands of tiny colored gems were suspended in midair, forming magnificent crystal constellations.

Streamers in deep mauves, indigos, and crimson were strewn every which way around pillars and poles, and other than the sparkling quartz above, the hall was only lit by candlelight.

The overall effect was just so…mesmerizing.

"Wow, Rose, you did a great job." Lily was staring at the glittering, glistening ceiling, apparently a bit awed herself.

Rose smiled grudgingly, shaking her head. "It was all Malfoy," she insisted.

Lily looked at her questioningly, but before she could prod, Zabini had persuaded her to join him on the dance floor. Rose sighed, adjusted her mask and surveyed her surroundings once more. She had a strange feeling of power tonight, oddly detached from herself. It was if the mask she wore had given her the freedom to do anything she pleased, as no one would ever recognize her unless she allowed them to do so.

She wasn't just somebody.

She was _anybody_.

How had the boy put it?

"_Names don't matter now."_

Then what was it that mattered? It wasn't _who_ you were…it was that you _were_. Period. This being in time, simply your _essence_. And nothing else.

"Care to dance?" A figure in a black suit and burgundy tie had approached her, kneeling as he took her hand. The situation seemed so familiar, _so_ much so, Rose had felt utterly stupid not knowing it then and there.

"Sure."

And when they were on the dance floor, he was saying, "You look spectacularly amazing tonight." There was a hint of amusement in his voice, and Rose wondered if he thought what he was doing was all just in fun, that it was some sort of game. She decided to play along.

After all, tonight, she was _anybody_.

She smiled. "You're not so bad yourself." Which wasn't a lie. Even with their masks on, she could see the strong, athletic build that was beneath the well-fitted fabric of his shirt.

"Hey, you wanna go somewhere with me?"

She should've said no. There should've been alarm bells going off inside her head, dozens of red flags waving. Any other night, wouldn't she have said no?

The answer was yes.

She was Rose Weasley.

But tonight…

She wasn't.

And then they were somewhere else, sheltered by trees beside the lake. And then he was kissing her, but it was rough and it was demanding. Rose pressed her lips against his without a rational thought, just wanting to feel herself burn up, her heart racing. She didn't stop to savor him, it was all just to feel this _heat_.

Her head was spinning. She was so high off of his kisses, off that strange whirring of _possibility_ in her brain, and it was like a drug that she couldn't quit.

"Oh, god, you're so _hot_."

She was still entangled with him, and he was whispering those sweet nothings in her ears. Couldn't she feel that this wasn't right? Couldn't she see, this was not what she needed, nor what she truly craved?

But here he was, wanting her, encouraging her with his compliments:

"You're _gorgeous. _I _want_ you."

And then he was unlacing her dress, tugging at the fabric like it shouldn't be there, like it was choking them both, and it desperately needed to _go_.

Only when his fingers grasped her soft, vulnerable flesh did she wonder.

_Who are you?_

"Who are you?" she breathed against his neck, his fingers trailing down her own, until they rested below her collarbone…

"Ben," he said. "Benjamin Wood."

Scorpius had danced with several girls.

And he knew they couldn't have possibly been _her_.

Now, as he sat at a table alone with his drink, he wondered where she could be.

_Dancing with a bloke_, a voice suggested. But he would have seen her, _known_ it was her on the dance floor. And she wasn't.

_Well, then, _and the voice seemed to mock him, _snogging a bloke._

_Rose wouldn't do that,_ came another thought, reassuring, _She has morals, she has-_

_-No boyfriend. For all you know she could be establishing a relationship right now…_

"Ugh, I never get any peace and quiet," he moaned to himself.

"Troubling thoughts, Malfoy?"

Scorpius knew it was Zabini the second he turned. There was a beautiful girl on his arm, though he couldn't quite say what she looked like, but they both had those keen, calculating gazes…

"Looking for someone?" wondered the girl. "If you're looking for, Rose, I think I saw her disappear outside a while ago…"

And suddenly, he was up in his chair. He would never understand why he so desperately wanted to see her, why she was the most concerning thing on his mind. He couldn't let this show. This was weakness, if there ever was one.

"Refill," he said, walking away from the two people that he knew could see right through him…

Her mind froze.

Her thoughts were nothing as she gazed up at the boy who was looking at her hungrily. Why hadn't she realized it before?

The boy smirked, and her fears were confirmed. This was _Wood_.

"Amazed, huh?" he asked, kissing her again. She wasn't stopping him. It was if her brain was short-circuited, the information was coming to her, but she couldn't develop any response to send back out. "I knew you'd be surprised. I _am_ deviously handsome." He was kissing her still, and she couldn't make a move to end it and leave.

"Stop it," she finally said. He stopped, but as he looked up at her, there was an angry fire in his eyes.

"You know you want me," he stated, continuing to press his lips to hers. The electric was gone. Now Rose only felt scared and panicked. He bit down on her lip, and she cried out sharply.

"I said stop it." The words sounded weak, even to herself. "No. Stop it, Ben."

He was gripping her arms now, holding her wrists above her head. She had taken for granted how strong he actually was…

"No? _No?_ You're just like that _bitch_, Weasley. You think you can start and then just stop?" He was getting angrier now, and he was touching her at the small of her back, on the soft flesh over her ribs…this was _not _allowed. This _wasn't_ supposed to be allowed to happen to her. A moan escaped her lips, unwillingly, she could do nothing now that she was trapped. There seemed to be new confidence in his voice. "I _knew_ you wanted me. You can't resist me, bitch. You got yourself into this mess—"

"Unhand her, Wood." Why was that voice familiar as well? Rose felt her heart accelerate at the sound…

Wood growled at the figure in the dark. "None of your business. Sod off."

"It _is_ my business. I don't suppose you want to explain to your Head of House why you're drunk and molesting a girl behind a tree?" The boy was silent, seemingly weighing the intruders words in his head. Finally he paled.

"_Fine," _he spat, unhanding Rose.

And then he stalked off, leaving her feeling so exposed and wrong and _stupid_, thinking "I should have known, oh god…"

He had tried to stay himself, to get a drink and not search for her, but the _need_ was nagging at him so that he caved.

We stepped outside and the first thing he saw was the moon, high and heavy in the sky. Hundreds of stars were splattered against the deep blue tarp, so dull yet so much more brilliant than the stars he had created indoors. He was wondering if anything could ever match its magnificence and then thought that yes, there most definitely was…

"Stop it." There was a voice, where had he heard it before? "No-"

"You're just like that _bitch_, Rose Weasley-"

He had heard enough.

He was racing towards the sound of her name someone's lips, and of course he knew it was _him._

And here was the scene again. If he hadn't looked any close, he would've seen again what he had discovered in that alleyway in Hogsmeade…two in an intimate embrace…

But the girl's hands were held above her head, and the boy's hands were roaming her greedily and she was shaking under his touch.

Not with passion.

With _fear_.

And he watched as the boy walked away and the girl stood very, very still…

And now she was on her knees, crying, and it was so, _so_ horrible watching her cry…

"Are you okay?"

It was like his voice had startled her. There was fear in her eyes again. Would he do the same to her? She was mistrusting of this stranger.

"He's an ass," the boy told her, crouching down next to her. "He should rot in a hole."

This earned a strange giggle as Rose imagined the boy in a hole. Why was she laughing now, after all that had just occurred? She couldn't seem to find an answer in her, other than _this _felt so light, talking to this boy next to her.

"I guess you might've had reason to be afraid of me too," he said out of the silence. The girl jolted, though he wasn't looking at her at all. "I'm an ass too," he admitted. "I treated girls as insignificant things who gave me what I wanted. I picked them up and threw them away like _dolls_." There was a sad smile on his face, Rose could see, but he still wasn't watching her, instead favoring the stars. "I used to be like that…never attached to anyone, not feeling joy or sorrow or anger or anything that anyone else cared to feel…" A bitter laugh. "Except _hatred_. Unjustified as it was." Rose was studying the edge of his face, but it just blurred around the edges, as if through water and she couldn't see who was speaking to her properly.

"But I feel _now_. God, how I _feel_…" He had said his last quietly, as if he had not meant for her to hear. But suddenly he was up on his feet, walking away. "You should get back," he told her, not turning the slightest to look at her. "It's not safe out here."

Rose saw the moon and the stars and wondered if he wasn't wrong—if the quiet and the night and the _alone_ was so much better than the noise—pounding music in his ears—the sweat and the sweet stink of strangers among strangers, the silent danger that was there.

With all that unknown, _this_ had felt pretty safe.

Welcome.

But now that he was gone, she was starting to feel the night's chill again, and she got up to follow him into that dark unknown…

"Rose, you're a _mess_!" Lily had spotted her tell-tale gown and was immediately fussing over her, muttering spells that would fix her up. "What _happened_?"

She could see something was not right in Rose's eyes and it was something in them she had never seen before.

"Wood…he didn't know it was me and he—" She shook her head, not wanting to talk about it.

_Fear_.

For the first time in her near-sixteen years, Lily had seen her fearless cousin _afraid_.

He saw her again, the girl.

So familiar…it had been _her_, hadn't it?

What was he _doing_, making himself so _vulnerable_?

And there she was, sitting alone at a table. Just looking at her…he wanted to _throttle_ that boy. He wanted Wood's head to spin. But he quelled his anger, just for now…

Slowly, he began walking towards her. He barely had to think—it was like there was a magnet where his heart should be and it was pulling him, leading him—

"Dance with me?"

She looked up at him and she was thinking, thinking quite hard before she would ever let herself make another decision with lack of judgment.

Her answer was to take his hand and lead him to the floor herself.

There was a slow song playing, the faint winkling of piano keys and the mournful wail of strings on strings.

They danced like it was a natural instinct—water, air—

He twirled her around and other stopped their own dancing to watch with a sort of awe. Soon, it was just the two of them, dancing like the audience didn't exist and this was their breathing.

_Inhale_.

_Exhale._

And the song ended.

There was clapping.

But they were too far to hear it as Malfoy was dragging the girl away, with him, somewhere—g anywhere they could be alone just—

The stars. Him and the stars and the moon and _Rose_.

"Scorpius, I—"

"Shh, shh, Rose," he whispered, touching a finger to her lips, so soft as rose petals…

She looked at him, curious and doe-eyed so that she was so painful to touch. How could he touch even her lips, so beautiful and innocent?

"Please," she said, her fingers now slipping under the edge of his mask. "Please, I just need to see you—"

He let her.

He let her unmask him, all the façade was gone from his face, pale and strangely gentle under moonlight.

He himself removed her mask as well, and it was _her_, the real _her, _and he could no longer see the stars and the moon above now that she was _here_.

So slowly, ever so painfully slow, he leaned towards her, landing one light—feather-light so light it was—kiss on her lips.

And then he was gone, disappearing into the long, winding corridors of the castle, leaving Rose…_aching_. And the magnet in her chest was pulling _her_, tugging, _tugging_ at her…


	9. Chapter 9

**Truth, Chapter Nine**

**P.S. So. I'm evil. I left this in my folder for months, and never updated. Damn.**

**Oh, and can you say "confrontation"?**

"Wait-"

Rose was scrambling to her feet…

But he was already gone.

And so she was following him…

"Rose! Wait!" Lily was storming after her in her three-inch heels, the sound muffled by the music blasting around them. "Where are you—"

"Stop, Lily." Marcus had grabbed her arm and was talking to her quietly. "It's something she has to do." Then, as she turned to leave again, he added, "On her own."

Rose wasn't paying attention to either of them, still running after _him_…

_He just kissed me. He—_

Was standing in front of her.

Rose wasn't sure if the very earth were moving beneath her; she felt as if her legs were about to give out beneath her.

"Rose-" he started.

"Scorpius, I-"

"-I don't think we should do this."

"What? But-"

"Just. Please." Each syllable felt like dirt in his mouth.

"I don't understand-" She reached out to his trembling figure. He recoiled.

"Stay away from me."

Her hand dropped.

"Please, Scorpius we can-"

"There is no 'we' Weasley, just…_go_." He could no longer look at her. Her eyes were pleading for explanation. He couldn't give her one. Not one that she wanted.

She would not leave. She did not understand. What had happened? Just a moment ago, he had…it had seemed…was she a fool?

No, he was the fool. But she did not know.

Now, he turned away. Rose did not see the unbearable sadness in his eyes, but it was there. He walked away and did not look back.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Malfoy, but one cannot resign from the position of Head Boy this far into the term. You have responsibilities. You cannot simply abandon them without good reason."

McGonagall assessed the young boy in front of her. He looked the Scorpius Malfoy she had known—cold, pale, rigid—but somehow, he seemed…vulnerable. Irrationally so. Why would he ever want to resign as Head Boy? Did he not know, that if he did so, a Gryffindor would surely take his place?

"I think it is necessary," he said.

"Perhaps, Rose Weasley?"

"Personal issues."

He had not answered her. If McGonagall had not been keener, she would have missed the boy's slight hesitation at mention of the Head Girl's name. But, it was not distaste she had sensed, but rather a certain fear. It couldn't be. His father, maybe, but Scorpius Malfoy was no coward. If circumstances had been different, the Headmistress would have gladly welcomed the boy into her own House.

"If that is so…"

"Rosie! Tell me what happened!" Lily Luna pleaded of her elder cousin, now reduced to a curled up heap on her bedspread.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Rose Weasley, I know something _happened_. If you won't tell me-" Here Lily paused. What would she do? This was not the type of scenario for blackmail or shallow threats. She had the answer. "-I'll ask Wood himself." A triumphant smirk was plastered on her face as she watched her cousin's blank expression morph to horror.

"Y-you can't! It's not-"

Lily clucked. Tsk-Tsk-Tsk. Did her cousin take her for a fool?

"It's not about _him _then? Then…it can only be about Scorpius, eh?"

Rose looked bewilderedly at Lily. How she had not made Slytherin, she would never know. Rose had promised herself she wasn't going to speak about that dreadful night, but here she was, spilling the beans to her cousin in a heartbeat.

"_Come on_," Lily prodded, whacking Rosie with a feather pillow. "I _know_ it's about him. It's always been about _him_. You were just too dense to realize it."

Was it true? How long had this—'it'—been going on? Now that she thought about it, there had only been two real "boys" in her life—Benjamin Wood and Scorpius Malfoy. One scared her. The other one…more so.

"You need to talk to him, Rosie. He's just scared. Understandably." Lily spoke so lightly, it was a wonder that her advice was serious. Rose turned to her cousin with fire on her tongue, the words ready to spill out.

"But he didn't _let_ me talk to him! He told me to go away!"

"He was in shock. You terrify him."

"_I_ terrify _him_?" The Head Girl gave out a bitter laugh. "He's the one who bloody _petrifies_ me! All he has to do is _look_ at me, and I can't even move!"

"Mmhmm…" said Lily, pondering. Wasn't it the same thing either way? They both made the other vulnerable…She twiddled a strand of hair around her finger, meeting her cousin's eyes once more. "How do you know it's not the other way around?"

Rose sputtered. "I-it can't be! He's always so calm, so bloody _expressionless_." But that was not true. How many times had she caught him displaying emotion when he thought no one was looking? How could she be so naive? There had to be a reason for his actions, irrational as it seemed…

"Rosie, I know what you're thinking. And what you need to realize is that _Scorpius Malfoy_ is not the monster, the inhuman being you grew up thinking he was. He's a _boy_."

Rose groaned into her pillow.

"You know," continued the youngest Potter, "he's resigning as Head."

"_What?"_

"Marcus told me. Apparently he needs his space. Personal issues, he said."

That couldn't mean?

"_Of course_, it means _you_, Rose. Who else? You better talk to him before it's too late. I already arranged for your meeting in the common room."

"_Lily!" _Rose hissed. Her devious cousin merely shrugged.

"If I hadn't done it, you would've never listened to me. He's waiting out there right now."

Rose almost slammed the pillow right in her cousin's face. Cousin or no cousin, this girl was every inch a manipulative Slytherin.

"For _how long_?" she demanded through clenched teeth.

"About two minutes. You took longer to convince than I thought."

With a huff, Rose went out to face her biggest fear:

Scorpius Malfoy.

She would conquer this unsettling knowledge.

She _was_ a Gryffindor, after all.

"Talk to her, mate."

It was Zabini. How he knew to find him here was a mystery. Scorpius should remember to never underestimate him…

The Owlry was covered in snow. Late November wind swept up the colored leaves of autumn, and an early blizzard had brought in heaps of slush and ice. Scorpius did not meet the gaze of his best friend. Rather, he was looking out into the landscape before him, his frozen breath spouting puffs of white in front of his face. He decided he liked the cold. It numbed his senses, cleared his thoughts.

"You know I can't face her."

"Why?" Marcus prodded, though he knew the answer. He wanted him to think it, to accept it.

"I'm-" He hesitated. Fear was one thing. Admitting it was another. A weakness. A chink in his armor, if there ever was one.

"You're afraid of her."

_Yes._

His unspoken answer was already known to them both. Scorpius sighed. How could he face her, after what he said? _'There is no 'we' Weasley.'_

It was the truth. There was him, and there was her, and there was a line either was forbidden to cross. This was his reasoning, and he was sure it was hers.

"If she didn't think it could work, she wouldn't have pursued you."

"That's…"

"Face it, Malfoy. You're just afraid of your own skin. It's been telling you the truth this whole time, and you're not man enough to face it."

…Not man enough?

Not _man_ enough?

"You get over here!"

At last Scorpius whirled to face his fellow Slytherin. He was surprised to see him standing so close. When he swung, Zabini managed to get him in the jaw. The impact shook them both.

Both boys touched their faces.

Blood.

The Zabini boy was smiling. His grin was contagious.

"Ha. Ha."

"Ha. Ha_. Ha."_

"You're my brother, you know that, right?" said the darker of the two.

"Of course," said the blonde one. "Always was, always will be."

The Zabini boy slung a casual arm around his counterpart, leading them both down the steps to the infirmary.

"Good."

Then, he added:

"Talk to her."

Of course they had set this up.

"Hello, Rosie," greeted Marcus Zabini. Scorpius stiffened in his chair. He had not known the confrontation to be so soon. He internally slapped himself for playing into Zabini's hand. And apparently Lily Luna Potter's, too.

"Hello, Marcus." She gave the boy a curt nod, words as dry as sandpaper. She had been played. When she got her hands on that cousin of hers—

"Marcus!"

Speak of the devil. Both Heads turned to face the youngest Potter as she made her exit of Rose's room and leapt into the arms of Marcus Zabini. And then she was gone.

"Toodles~!" called Lily, her echoing laughter bouncing off the corridors.

Marcus waved, following after his girl. "C'est la vie" were his last words.


End file.
